I know I usually chat in my blog like some circus monkey on a leash, jumping around and acting like a idiot, but today I'm actually going to be serious. For the past week as I've gone to cat-sit for a friend I've walked past two homeless men who sit right by a McDonalds in my neighborhood. I usually say hi, Merry Christmas, that sort of thing. Today only one man was sitting out, and I stopped and gave him a dollar, and we began talking. Over the course of our talk he asked if I remembered the guy who sat with him, and told him I did. "That was my brother," he said. "He died yesterday." I was shocked for a moment, and then told him I was sorry to hear that, and it must be hard on him. He nodded, and said, "Well, I'm sure it's all part of God's plan. I'm sure he needs him. Although I need him too." We talked for a few more minutes, and he told me how he had argued with the 911 people about the address: "I told them it was the corner of Western and Gunderson, and they said that those two didn't intersect, and I told them, 'Well I'm at Western and Gunderson right now honey!' " Then, being right outside the McDonalds, I asked if he wanted something to eat, and he kindly turned me down saying, "I can't stand McDonalds. I'm heading over to the Burger King down the street." I smiled at this, wondering to myself if he'd ever heard the expression beggars can't be choosers. I gave him another dollar for his Burger King dinner, told him goodbye, and wished him a nice day. "Eh, I'm not gonna have one," he said, "but I'll try."